The doors of the large circular meeting room opened with an ominous, prolonged and plaintive creak. Then, entering the room with a determined step, the man named Androanni stopped in the center of the room, illuminated by rays of light coming from several places on the smooth stone ceiling, and converging where he had positioned himself.
The doors were closed behind him by two guards, and he stared through his smooth mask into the deep darkness that made the back of the room disappear. His mask, which appeared opaque on the outside, had a translucent surface inside that allowed him to see everything without obstruction, as if he had always had his face uncovered. However, its usually flat and perfect surface had been disrupted by a large gash on its right side; letting air, light, and glances through. Since that damage, he had been plagued by recurring migraines, and suspected that they must have been related to the damage that this other man had caused; hence the intense white light landing directly on his blue pupil was most unpleasant.
However, what bothered him more than the light and his headaches was the fact that their material recovery operation had failed because of the military intervention on the auction house. As a result, they had lost one of their regular suppliers, but also the opportunity to grab several individuals with a strong affinity for mana in one fell swoop.
He didn't yet know what his master would ask of him by summoning him in this way, but he was pretty sure it would be about collecting new materials to make up for the loss of the stock from Ylesse.
The stone floor of the room shook very slightly, the few gravels brought in by the boots of the Circle members bouncing and rolling on the surface of the large dark slabs. Then another tremor occurred, again stirring up dust and small stones all around Androanni. And yet another, closer, made a heavy thud echo throughout the room.
His master was approaching, in all his imposing stature. His footsteps, terrible and disturbing, announced of themselves his presence; so much so that he did not need to enter the light to show himself.
The intense shiver Androanni felt was enough to make him immediately put a knee to the ground and bow his head in respect.
"Master Varpalect, I answered your call as quickly as I could." Declared the masked man.
He heard one more, maybe two steps; and silence and wind filled the room.
"You disappoint me, Androanni," a voice as deep as thunder rumbled from the shadows.
The one being questioned lowered his head even more, as a sign of repentance. He did not tremble with fear, despite the threatening tone of the voice.
"Because of your carelessness, we have lost materials of the utmost importance," the lightning-filled voice continued calmly.
"I have disappointed you, master," Androanni confirmed. "But if you will let me, I will make amends, and far exceed your expectations."
A slow, low laugh echoed through the room and hit the arched walls, sending a distorted, jerky echo through the masked man's body.
He knew that his master was not laughing because he found the situation funny, or to lighten the mood. Nor was he laughing because he was making fun of his subordinate. In fact, he was laughing because he was enjoying the statement that had just been made.
"I don't doubt it for a moment," the big voice rumbled again. "That's why I've already found your next target."
Immediately, the rays of light hitherto focused on Androanni all moved at once to straighten up and move against the left wall, and then projected an image onto the stone.
"Forget about the lots we lost in Ylesse," said his master. "I have finally found the ultimate material for our project."
Getting up, Androanni then turned to the image created on the wall, and watched it carefully.
The headache that had been subsiding in his skull until now began to flare up the moment he laid eyes on the strange screen.
"She finally showed up, so this is your top priority, Androanni. I want her, and no one else." Added his master.
No, it was more than just a headache. Androanni could feel it. It was like a blade going through his skull, so much so that the intense pain made him grab his hair on top of his head as he lurched forward.
He then heard his master click his tongue.
"I almost forgot..." He said.
A glow enveloped the mask Androanni wore, and he saw the material in front of his blue eye return to its original form.
No more cracks... And no more pain.
Soothed, he straightened up; releasing his grip on his own hair.
"Don't forget that if this mask is destroyed, all that awaits you is death," his master reminded him, his voice hissing like a thousand snakes.
He had not forgotten, no, that his only salvation was his master; and that without him, he could never have survived this long.
"You have my gratitude, master." He thanked him without delay.
"Then you know that I expect a lot of results from you," his master insisted. " You know what that means, too, if you ever fail in your task."
The heavy footsteps sounded again, a sign that his master was taking his leave, leaving him alone in the room. Androanni knew he was getting further and further away from him as the intense cold sensation that had filled the air earlier was now fading, following the body from which it radiated.
The message was clear: either he brought back his target or he would die.
Androanni took one last look at the image projected on the wall of the large meeting room, detailing the features of his new target: a Salamander flying through the air.
The mission ahead was going to be difficult, especially as the appearance of the ultimate material became clearer; jagged teeth, sharp spikes, glistening scales, and two emerald eyes that stood out against the silver skin that set them off.
Until now, his master had never insisted on bringing such an imposing creature into their lair. Capturing a dragon, dead or alive, was no small matter either.
However, if this was the one and only ingredient they needed, could it be that his master had been waiting for him all this time? Did this mean that possessing it would finally accomplish his will?
Androanni looked straight into the eyes of the unmoving subject; the image, taken from even higher in the air. What made this dragon so special to his master? Was it because dragons had become rare, and naturally possessed a great affinity for magic? Or was there another reason he didn't know about yet?
Perhaps this reason that escaped him was also the cause of the violent pain he had felt in his skull...
Turning his attention to the lower right corner of the photograph, he looked at the strangely accurate map of the continent, and immediately recognized the place that had been designated by a bright yellow dot to indicate where the image had been taken: Mount Larshen.
Without missing a beat, he left the room.
He felt confident about it. The sooner he could get this material back, the sooner everything would change.